How Much For a Night?
"Let's be honest," A drunkard screamed in between his swigs. The stench of beer and pent up political tension radiated from his shaven, uncleaned body. "y-you'd think tha magic council was up ta s-something w-with all these guilds suddenly ppearin.' "Oh shut tha hell up Brutus." A woman screamed from behind the bar. "No one wants ta hear that shit. The more guilds the better. More jobs. More protection, the kingdom of Fiore needs this" "Y-you bitch they're taking our jobs! T-those big g-guilds...leaving us with cleaning rat shit off tha...off tha docks." He took another swig. "It's fucking bananas!" "Fucking bananas." Saladin snickered beneath his breath as he he listened to this buffoonery from atop the upper deck. He sat at a table obscured by shadows. Only the most dangerous of foreigners were here, surrounded by whispers of legends and horrific actions performed on the unforgiving seas. He enjoyed these tales for he was quite the seafarer himself. After all, Seven wasn't the most reachable of islands. "Ey pointy ears, wat's in the bag?" A thunderous voice rumbled. Saladin turned his attention to the approaching silhouette, each step shaking the upper level. "Things meant for cleaning said pointy ears." Saladin joked. Couple steps forward and the beast of a human was illuminated by the moonlight piercing through a singular window. Snot nosed. Pig bellied. It sickened Saladin that this thing could be considered the same species as him. "I can smell gold." The man grumbled. He snapped his fingers and several silhouettes filled the deck. Saladin's eyes wandered to the lower level. Everyone was too drunk or mesmerized by the music to notice. Not that he'd need help or anything. "Bet ya smell a lot of things." Saladin joked. "Tubby." "Know what?! I was tryna be nice blackie but now its time for ya to feel ma wrath!" The behemoth of a man grinned as the hyenas behind him chuckled. "Lemme show ya why dey call meh tha rock smasha!" He reeled his arm back and threw quite the powerful punch. One which would have easily sent the average man soaring through the wall and outside the bar. Unfortunately, Saladin wasn't the average mage. He held his finger up to where the punch would connect. Force Division (x100) A ring of magical energy sprouted into existence before his finger. Upon the ring was inscriptions in an ancient language, followed by mysterious symbol and what a cultured mage could pinpoint as a numerical character. The upper level fell silent. For that punch, which traveled through the ring, was now struggling against Saladin's finger. Their eyes met. A slight grin. Worldly Multiplication - Gravity (x100). Magical energy circled Saladin's attacker and formed another ring. This time with different inscriptions but the same numerical character as before. Silence. Until the brash giant crashed through the floor beneath him and slammed into the earth. "What...the...fuck..." He struggled. As the ring circulated his body, he found himself unable to stand. The music and cheerful atmosphere stopped. Their eyes scanning for whoever could do such a thing. "Is this...fucking...gravity magic?!" Saladin heard the man ask. The hyenas peeked through the floor. "Y-you're a gravity mage?!" One screamed. "A fucking gravity magic user here!" Another answered. "We gotta go!" Saladin snapped his finger and the ring vanished. It wasn't gravity magic. But stories and tales had more power than Magic itself. He watched the hooligans run after heir boss who dashed towards the door. With the sudden trouble seeming to vanish, the drunkards and bar maidens continued their endless dance. This was why Saladin dreamed of one day opening his own Inn and Tavern. A place where people could gather. Sing. Dance. The troubles of the world melting away with each glorious melody. He ordered another drink and continued watching the patrons dance and sing. Despite someone almost dying several minutes before, people went about enjoying their night without a single care. It was truly magnificent sight. A woman watched this unfold from a corner table, her expression bemused. She had made a nice little home in the corner of Fiore, stealing from the scum of the earth before pinning the blame on others. Eons away from her banished hometown. Or at least, she liked to think that. Her mind returned to the crapshoot spot she called home now; stealing had become so easy that it almost felt...boring. Sure there was never a dull moment, but the events felt....repetitive. Cyclical even. At least, until this little scene occurred. She recognized the figure immediately, his appearance sticking out like a sore thumb. "Well well, look who's here. Decided to pay my humble abode a visit?" Arwa asked, her twinkling maya eyes falling on the bag Saladin was carrying. She resisted nabbing it, remembering the last time she tried. "So...any news?" Saladin stood up and hopped over the new decoration in the floor. He joined the mysterious woman who sat in the shadowy corner. Someone who travelled with him from their home country, but had a pretty annoying habit of disappearing. He placed the bag on the table. "Well I've been great. Thank you for asking." Saladin replied sarcastically. He tempted her to take the bag, his eyes making sure it was within striking distance. "Awh...don't be sad, I'm sure your little heart can take it," she responded cheekily. Arwa huffed when the bag was placed closer. Nonchalantly as the bag was placed, Arwa couldn't help but be annoyed. She may be reckless, but she wasn't stupid. "Same old same old. Though I found something that'll help solidify us." He grinned a grin that only a child would. "Almost died for these." He reached into the bag and tossed her a golden key. "This'll serve the basis for our treasury." She caught the key without thought, her interest piqued when she saw his child-like smile. "A key to a treasury? I don't suppose it's already filled with super awesome goods ready to be...collected." Saladin scratched his head. "Just some money to get us started and the Magic Items we've gathered so far. Haven't had the best of luck." He took a sip of her drink without the slightest hint of regret or hesitation "But the keys aren't why I called everyone here. Are you familiar with the Forest of Death?" He would receive a smack on the head for his efforts, before Arwa downed what was left of her drink. "Don't touch other people's drinks. Shame on you, making a serial borrower teach you manners," Arwa retorted before brightening, her eyes glowing upon hearing the new information. "Forest of Death?!" The thought echoed through the head of a nearby man who sat at his own table, a large sack taking up the other chair. He was dressed in simple robes adorned with a couple fancy bits of jewelry. Though it didn't seem too expensive, more decorative. His long purple hair was tied in a ponytail that hung behind his head, resting on the top of the chair he sat in. He slowly removed the cup from his lips, licking the bit of foam left off. He stood from the table, hooking the sack with his foot as he tossed it up. He caught it with his hand and slung it over his shoulder as he approached the two. "Hello there." His voice was loud enough for them to hear but somewhat hushed to the rest of the bar. "I couldn't help but overhear you speak of something called the Forest of Death. I'm wondering if either of you are headed there and if you might need some assistance." He paused for a moment before extending a hand, pretending he hand't missed a beat. "Solomon Dewitt, monster hunter." He introduced himself. Make that twice Arwa was the manner keeper; she would karate chop the new speaker on the head while snatching a couple of the hanging jewels with her free hand. "Don't just insert yourself into a conversation Mr. MH," she commented before returning to Saladin, "so what's the deal with this Forest of Death place? Anything valuable to be found there?" Solomon was stuck rubbing his head, his heart aching from the rejected drink. How could she be so rude to not let him have a drink! What if he was dying of thirst?! He wasn't but what if!? He continued patting his pride as he watched the newcomer get taken advantage of by Arwa. Monster hunter? Saladin thought. He watched carefully as Arwa taught the stranger manners while robbing him. She was the same old desert bunny Saladin knew from Seven. He looked to Solomon and smiled. "You're more than welcomed to tag along. Sorry about my friend here, she doesn't have manners." Saladin said as he took a sip of Solomon's drink. "Recently there was a major disappearance. A few S-Rank Mages from a legal guild." "Cute." Solomon spoke as he rubbed his head. "Have fun attempting to pawn those off, I bought these for the price of white shirt." He glared down at the girl before reaching into his pouch producing more of the same pieces of jewelry, clipping on a couple where they were missing. He turned to the man, who at least seemed sensible. "I can see she's not very friendly." He moved to stand beside the man. "I've heard a lot about the forest, lots of monsters in there. Heard there was a particularly nasty Ailstag giving people some trouble." Solomon replied, "If you're both heading there i'd like to accompany you. The Ailstag probably isn't the one making those S classes disappear but sounds like something is definitely up." "Saladin-san." Another, somewhat eloquent voice echoed in the room, as a man entered the bar. A man with black hair in a ponytail could be viewed, with the front part of his hair almost bleached white, and piercing red eyes. As he further entered into the corner of the room, he could be seen wearing a perfectly tailored black suit with a noticeable tailcoat. This was Zahir, a member of the Sleeping Seven, and a loyal comrade who owed Saladin his life and freedom. "This Forest of Death...from what I could gather from the upper class, is all based on rumors. However...only one fact exists. That forest seemingly has so much magical energy...that most Mages can't even stand properly within its domain. From what I can tell...a powerful Magic Item could be the cause of this power." Saladin smiled at the sight of his most loyal member. Zahir, a man who Saladin saved from a life of servitude. The young Guild Master smirked, acknowledging the new arrival. Yes. This family was growing and becoming closer. Soon, they'd be able to stand against some of the more prominent guilds. "That's always great news, Zahir. If we can find that Magic Item and make it ours..." His voice trailed off. His eyes met Solomon's visage. "How do we know we can trust you, all his information you're giving for free?" Solomon eyed the new arrival and simply nodded to greet him. However Zahir provided some very interesting information. "So you're treasure hunters huh, oh man that's just perfect." Solomon looked directly at Saladin, addressing his concerns with a grin. "My original reason for divulging such information was that I wanted to join you, as previously stated. I'm a monster hunter with a particular interest in that Ailstag. However this is far better. Do you know how many treasures are guarded by monsters? Quite a lot to be precise. I'm trying to capture as many as I can but sadly I'm not exactly in place where I can raid a whole lair or fight some of the nastier ones on my own. I feel our paths have crossed for a reason." He reached into his sack and placed a couple discs on the table. "I'd like to join your group. Treasure hunters are always bound to engage monsters and that's just the life I want." She tossed away the jewels in disgust, vaguely insulted by the trinkets. The nerve of some people, wearing cheap knockoffs; no respect for an honest trade like hers. However, Arwa perked up once more when Zahir appeared. "Hey Za," she commented, waving at the new arrival. The lad always had something good to share; once again, he didn't disappoint. As soon as he mentioned the Forest of Death's special quality and a potential source, she whooped internally. "Then it looks like we have some hunting to do; can't let some MC proxy grab a hold of that now." Arwa turned serious. "Right, just sliding into our conversation is a bit suspicious don't you think?" she added, giving Solomon the beady eye before listening to his explanation. Ar remained unfazed, finding the reasoning convenient, even if it could be true. "It's Sala's call." "Well-" Saladin started. "Well, I guess I might as well slide in along with, what's his name here." A new face entered the conversation. He approached the shady group of treasure hunters as if he knew them, which was true barring one stranger, the stranger being Solomon. "Sup Saladin, Arwa, Zahir. How's it going." He addressed all but the stranger he would now be standing next to. The man had a very comfortable and casual outfit on, but something about it screamed royalty. He seemed slightly tired but no more tired than any other drunk who happened to be laying around. The man was none other than Ziyaad el-Farha, along with Zahir, he was a long time member of the Sleeping Seven Guild. He scanned the table, nothing caught his eye as it ran over the table, an empty cup was all he saw. His eyes would soon rest their sights on the bag sitting in front of both Saladin and Arwa. "What's in the bag, Saladin." Ziyaad's memory quickly struck him, he asked a question before greeting the stranger to the side of him. "Where are my manners, I'm Ziyaad, who might you be." Ziyaad addressed the man standing to the side of him who was also conversating with the group. Solomon glanced to the newest member to step up to the table. What woodwork were these people crawling out of? "The name is Solomon, nice to meet you." He nodded to Ziyaad before his gaze fell back upon Saladin, paitently waiting for the man to address his request and the disks he had placed on the table. "Could we all not arrive at the same time?" Saladin joked, forgetting to answer Solomon's request. His attention changed from the question at hand to his longtime friend and nuisance to his very existence. The Sleeping Seven was a different kind of guild, one which promoted separate paths to a singular goal. This was the first time they'd been in the same town in quite some time. But the winds of fate were telling Saladin that they would have to change their mode of operation. With the sudden emergence of Legal Guilds as well as their focus on Magic Items, the Sleeping Seven would need to become a force in itself. However the thought of involving the Seven with the Magic Council was something he always despised. Their with us or against us mentality was quite dangerous. He stared down into the drink of a nearby bar patron. The surface of the alcohol swirling into a scene before his very eyes. Your guild is quite impressive. You've helped a quite a few towns in your journeys. A great job if you ignore their magic items and treasury disappearing alongside your little outfit. Most impressive, however, is the fact that although you all move separately, there is a form of unity in your movements. The Magic Council would benefit from the Sleeping Seven's dedication to their ideals. Minor compensation. Obvious cuts in your rewards, the registration of your lesser Magic Items and the relinquishment of Magic Items ranked S and above. Saladin's eyes narrowed. The world of magic was one of exploration and discovery. He started the Sleeping Seven for a single purpose. And the great mages who wore their crest symbolized this. Absolute freedom. The pursuit of magical perfection. Bureaucracy and magic could never coexist. "We're marching into that forest." Saladin exclaimed. "And we're claiming whatever is in there as our own. Solomon, you're than welcomed to join us" Saladin took a sip of a nearby drink. "Also," Saladin dug into the bag and tossed out several keys. "From this point on, the Sleeping Seven no longer moves separately. These keys are the symbol of our unity in the pursuit of arcane knowledge. It'll allow instant access to the Requip where our treasury is now stored." When he got to Solomon, he hesitated. "When I'm sure of your nature, then you'll get one." Solomon stared down at Saladin, clearly unamused at the statement. He reached out and swiped the disks he had put on the table back into his hands. "Right then I'll give you all these when I'm content with your nature." The a smile finally returned to his face. "However I'm more than happy to join you all on this adventure." He grabbed a drink from a nearby table, holding it in there air. "To the Seven." "That's disgusting." Saladin noted as Solomon grabbed someone else's drink. "You don't know if was poisoned or what hole he stuck his mouth on." The ebony mage took a drink of a nearby drink. "Regardless we need to test you." He said, addressing Solomon. "Hey I'm dead yet. I take that as a good sign." Solomon replied with a shrug. His ears perked up at the idea of a test though. "You know I was actually going to head to Iceburg to check out a rumor I heard. Apparently some sort of monster lives up in the mountains there, kills lots of wanderers and sometimes mages. If you're willing to tag along I'm sure there's a lot of corpses to loot." Category:Sleeping Seven stories